Eloise
by clandestine.masquerade
Summary: A Slytherin Pureblood: as close to royalty as possible. A Gryffindor Blood Traitor: decidedly an outcast. Can there ever be love between the two? Probably not. But where's the story in that?


**Eloise**_  
Chapter One: Le Commencement  
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When I was very young, I overheard my parents talking. Discussing something I knew was important, but the strained tone to their voices. Something that concerned me. Though I had no conception of it at the time, I knew that what they were speaking about would change my life forever.

I'm a seventeen year old now, the youngest daughter of a pureblood family, and trapped in an arranged marriage I had no choice in. I am due to be married to the only man suitable for someone of my pedigree, someone who had the purest of all blood. Yet, I do not know him. I've never met him; except for various parties and balls my parents host and bring me to. All I know about my future husband is that he is thirty-three, is an adviser for the Minister, and his last name is Rosier. And as soon as I graduate from Hogwarts, I will be married, and we will be bonded for life. To someone I do not know.

It's hard, at times, to believe that I am engaged. Sure, I have the heavy, cold ring on my finger to remind me, and yes, the wedding plans are discussed daily among my sisters and mother, but it never seemed quite real. I had once confided this in my favorite sister, Penelope, but she waved her hand, saying it was normal. After all, she had been married to a Rosier, also, and had never met him. But now, she said, she was forever loyal and grateful to him. I never questioned her. My other two sisters, Violetta and Lucille, were much older that I, and so I felt more than a little intimidated with asking their opinions. They would probably lie anyway, saying that they always loved their husbands and would never have dreamed of not being completely sold on the arranged marriage portion of the deal.

This marriage had never been discussed with me. At one ball the year before, my father had stood, tapping his champagne glass delicately, capturing everyone's attention. I looked up from my food, which I had been picking at for over an hour, to listen. "I have an announcement!" he exclaimed, looking over the faces in the crowd. Nobody was moving at all, except one man who was working his way toward my father. "My youngest daughter, Eloise, has recently been engaged to Mister Marius Rosier!" Some ladies giggled, whispering behind their hands as they looked between my father and I. I was sitting, staring at him, my mouth hanging open outrageously. My father grinned, clapping my fiancé on the back grandly. I was still sitting, my mouth agape.

Later that night, I remember, the ring felt foreign and cumbersome on my hand. I was a complete wreck inside, but I didn't let anyone see it, as was required in the uptight society of purebloods. However, as soon as I was in the safety of my room, I cried and cried and cried, all night. I never fell asleep.

Now, the ring was weighing down on my hand ominously, reminding me that my wedding was less than a year away. All I had to separate me from my marriage to this man was Hogwarts, and as soon as that was over… I was to elope immediately.

Between that time and now, I would play the good pureblood daughter. If I did anything to disgrace my family, the engagement would be immediately severed, and I would invariably be disowned. I was afraid, frankly, of that: I wasn't a brave Gryffindor like Black is, I was a Slytherin who, if I was disowned, I would never be accepted by my friends again. That was the most frightening part: not being accepted by anyone I knew. After all, I didn't socialize with halves or muddies. They were simply forbidden when you're a Slytherin, especially of such high standing and such magnificent pedigree.

My friends at Hogwarts were never actually friends. Sure, we would talk and gossip and sit together in classes, but we were never actually friends. We were friends because our parents told us who would honor the family most if we were seen together. We grouped together, because we were simply the best. We were always Eloise, Bella, and Cissa those charmingly perfect Slytherin girls. Personally, it made me sick to think that people thought we were perfect. Really, we never were.

Sure, we were all beautiful, in our unique ways. Bella had that thick, curly hair; always sleek and falling in lovely ringlets down her back. Her face sported fabulous bone structure, with high cheekbones and a sharply angled jaw. Her skin was creamy and warmer than Cissa and I's, so she always looked tan, unless she was very ill.

Cissa, though she was sisters with Bella, looked so completely different, nobody would ever guess they were even related at all. Cissa had straight blonde hair, with its very tip brushing the waist of her school skirt. Her skin was creamy white, her nose small, and her lips always a rosy color. She was tall, but with curves any girl would be jealous of… even Bella and I. She was always lucky that way, but I could never image where she got her beauty: her mother and father resembled rolly pollies.

I, on the other hand, was unusual. I had Cissa's creamy skin and Bella's dark hair. My face wasn't extraordinary, but it was pretty, with full, dark lips and thick lashes. My eyes were undeniably unique: they were a rich amber color that looked almost like they could be red. I blushed easily, though I tried to hide it. It was frowned upon to show too much emotion, though with girls we had to appear delicate and fragile and exceedingly feminine. Too much blushing, however, made you look unwell or ruddy, neither desirable in the least. I wasn't tall, like both of the other girls. I was rather petite, at a tidy 5'4. Somehow, the height difference didn't overshadow me in the least: I was pretty and pure enough to hold my own among my friends.

When we walked down the hall, people parted for us. They looked at us, knowing we were dominant. First years never had to be told; they instinctively knew, looking at us in wonder as were strutted down the corridor, using it like it was runway. They all knew us, they had even provided a name for our clique: the Pretties. Sure, it was flattering, but if they knew us, they'd never think we were pretty again.

Being a Slytherin and in a spotlight constantly did have a load of disadvantages, of course. People hated us, Gryffindors especially. Teachers were wary of us, which nearly landed us in more detentions than strictly necessary, but we had escaped every one of them thanks to our parent's money. And, perhaps the worst of all, we were on the target end of a heap of pranks, courtesy of the Marauders. Of course, they did get in trouble for it, but you would not believe how many school blouses I had to throw away in the last year, nor how often I had landed in the Hospital Wing for mysterious illnesses, when that morning, out of the blue, Potter or Black had asked us about our health. We knew by then we wouldn't be going to class that day.

There was one thing you would never see at Hogwarts: Marauders and Pretties, acting decent towards one another. Sure, we would talk sometimes… more like scream, but we would exchange words, and the pranks were constant, too, but after years of rivalry, there was absolutely no way we would ever work together, for anything. Sure, we did _look_ at each other; after all, each group had plenty of good looks, but it was an unspoken rule that you would be shunned if you ever admitted it. Especially about Sirius Black, considering he was Bella and Cissa's cousin, and whom I was supposed to marry before he was burned off the Black Family Tree.

That was how life was in the Pretties. One tiny mistake, and it's game over. It had never happened before, at least not officially. Each of us had our secrets we would never dare tell one another. I would definitely never admit that I had snogged Amos Diggory, a well-known blood traitor, multiple times in fifth year. That strict rule is the reason why I'm constantly afraid of doing something wrong – even if it was minor, I would be dismissed from the Pretties, and their families would then know, and then my own, and I would probably be disowned. If you make the family look bad, you're out. Forever.

Deep in my heart, I knew I would have to face the consequences. I was never a perfect pureblood daughter, who didn't have a mind or care in her head. I was a girl, who happened to be bound by horrible invisible chains. I hated it. I wanted out. However, in the same stroke, I was horribly afraid of being out. I would be stuck in a world that was completely foreign to me, unendingly. I would have to find a way of my own, and that scared me to death.

And that was why I will never, _ever_ tell anyone that I _ever_ kissed Sirius Black.

_Ever_.

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**A/N:** I'm not sure if I will continue this, but I need to test the response before I make a solid decision. Reviews on how I did, please!


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